


Flightless Bird

by Calamityjim



Series: Liminal Spaces [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamityjim/pseuds/Calamityjim
Summary: When Dick takes Tim home early from a gala he hears a startling confession.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Liminal Spaces [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414078
Comments: 64
Kudos: 1969





	Flightless Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sami_the_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sami_the_Dragon/gifts), [RainyDayKid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyDayKid/gifts).



> Prompts were Dick acting brotherly and the family finding out Tim has suicidal tendencies. Might do a second chapter, might not.

Dick loved his brothers. He really did. Getting Jay back, not some copy or perversion of his memory but his honest to god brother was a miracle and Dick felt awe every time he heard Jay laugh, every time he touched Jay’s skin or saw his smile. He knew Bruce felt that way too. He caught Bruce stealing glances at Jay, the ghost of a smile on his lips while the edges of his eyes relaxed. Having Jay back had healed a piece of this family that Dick had believed would always be a jagged edge. 

Dami had been a surprise. He was still a surprise. Though he wore his act of an imperious princeling well, Dick could see the unsure boy underneath, desperate for love and approval while being terrified of asking for it. Dami reminded Dick of Jay when he was fresh off the street, though the boy was a little more trusting, a little more willing to sniff the outstretched hand than to bite it. 

And Tim… God, Tim was so broken. They all were. They had to be to consider doing what they did, for living through what they had lost, but Dick had always had someone. He’d had his parents and then he’d had Bruce and Alfred. Eventually that had expanded to the Team. 

Tim didn’t talk about it, didn’t talk about himself. He spoke of what he could do, of how he could help, but never of what he needed. Tim treated himself like a tool and took any show of human compassion of a sign that he wasn’t doing enough. Sometimes it felt like he was trying to wear a person suit instead of just allowing himself to be a person. 

What had they done to him in that Other Universe? 

Dick watched Tim give a fake laugh over a joke Mr Barestein had told. It was like watching a clip from a movie where the camera is panning over a crowd of the rich and famous. Tim was so fake here, but fake in a way that allowed him to blend in perfectly, the way Batman blended into shadows, and in its own way it was just as terrifying. 

“I understand that I am a man prone to violence,” Bruce muttered in Dick’s ear, “but I want to unleash hell upon whoever taught Tim that.”

“Agreed,” Dick said quietly, watching as Tim broke away from the crowd to refill his drink. He hadn’t had a sip but the glass had mysteriously emptied itself, likely into some sort of gadget in Tim’s sleeve. Unless his brother had gone the old fashioned route and dumped it into the occasional plant. “Can I tap him out?”

Bruce nodded. “I don’t care if you have to threaten or bribe him. He needs to leave the gala.”

Permission granted, Dick glided through the crowd with an acrobat’s grace, ducking and weaving to avoid someone looping him into their latest inane gossip or, worse but more likely, them trying to set him up with their favorite single relative. He dropped his own glass on the tray of a passing waiter before he was close enough to grab Tim by the elbow just as the boy started to insert himself into another conversation. 

“Why hello, dear brother!”

“Hello Dick,” Tim said cheerily, though his eyes clearly asked Dick what the fuck he was doing. 

Dick gave the crowd his most charming grin, which he had been assured was quite charming. “Sorry, but I need to borrow Tim for a while.”

One of the women laughed. “By all means, rescue him from us. Old ladies must seem rather boring for young men like yourselves.”

“Not at all, Mrs Feuchman. I find I quite enjoy your company,” Tim said like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

The woman lightly smacked Tim’s arm. “Oh shush you. Your brother is helping you escape. Take the opportunity and run. I know when I was your age I made every excuse to leave early.” She gave a dreamy sigh. “Oh to be young again.”

Dick chuckled. “Thank you for understanding.” He gave Tim a tug that would have resulted in a scene if the boy had fought it. “Come along, Tim.” He half dragged, half led, Tim into the garage, not letting go until they were at Dick’s 911 Carrera. 

Tim slipped from Party Tim to Real Tim with dizzying speed. “What the hell, Dick? I was doing fine.” If by ‘fine’ Tim meant he was making Dick question whether or not Tim was dissociative, then yes, by all means, Tim was doing great. 

Dick sighed. If he told Tim he was doing good he would be encouraging unhealthy behaviour. If he called Tim out on it Tim would just get pissy. There really was no winning. “Just, get in the car Tim,” Dick said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. 

Tim scoffed but did as ordered, slamming his door hard enough to make Dick wince. Somehow Tim managed to passive-aggressively buckle up his seat belt before he slumped sideways, his head against the window. 

Dick sighed and put the car in gear, navigating his way out of the garage in silence. The sun had gone down long ago and a light rain had taken its place. The lights of the city reflected off of Dick’s silver car, making the hood glow an eerie red with every stoplight they hit. 

The Manor was on the opposite side of the city and with Tim’s sulking silence it was going to be a long drive. Dick debated putting on some music, if only to soothe himself, but picking given how moody Tim had decided to be that would likely result in another conflict. Dick didn’t want to fight with Tim but he did need Tim to be safe, even if it was from himself. 

They were about halfway there when Tim spoke up. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me.” It escaped Tim’s lips like a broken confession, exhaustion hanging off of every word. “I’m not allowed to patrol. No one will let me help with cases. You pull me early from working the galas. I’m not even allowed to overlook Wayne Enterprise.” Dick could hear the frustration building on Tim’s every word. “What do you want from me?”

Dick’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “We want you to be happy.”

Tim snorted, his breath fogging the window. “I’ll be happy when I’m dead.”

Dick jerked hard on the feeling, veering onto a sidestreet. “What the fuck, Dick?” The car slammed to a halt, partly on the sidewalk. “Did you suddenly forget how to drive?”

Dick twisted to stare at Tim, who had finally elected to sit up straight. Dick grabbed Tim’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “Repeat what you just said.”

Tim rolled his eyes, green light tainting his pale skin. “It’s just an expression, Dick. Jesus, calm the fuck down, drama queen.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Tim. Have you talked to Dinah about this? Does Bruce know?”

Tim sneered. “Know what? That I make off-color jokes?”

Dick ran his free hand through his hair, careful to keep his other hand on Tim if only to assure him that his little brother was real, that he was there. He took in a deep breath and asked a question that he dreaded the answer to. “Tim, have you ever tried to kill yourself?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “No, Dick, I have never tried to kill myself.” There was something mocking about Tim’s tone and it curled in Dick’s stomach. 

“Have you ever purposely put yourself in a situation where you knew you wouldn’t survive?”

That question was met with silence. 

Dick could feel heat at the corner of his eyes. “What happened?” Dick asked blandly, trying to keep himself from screaming. 

Tim slumped under his grip. He turned his head away to watch the rain slide down the windshield. “I got into a fight with Ra’s Al Ghul.” 

Dick closed his eyes and he could feel a tear run down the side of his face. “No backup?”

“No backup,” Tim confirmed quietly. “He’d had a plan and I’d foiled it. I kept everyone alive, I kept the company safe. I confronted Ra’s. I didn’t have to. I could have just called him to let him know that I had beaten him. When he realized I’d won I expected him to run me through.” 

Something about Tim had gone hazy, his expression far away as he relieved the memory. “He kicked me out a window.”

Dick swallowed so he wasn’t sick all over his car. Tim continued on, ignorant of the feelings he was giving Dick. “I was too high up to grapple and probably couldn’t have held one anyway considering how badly Ra’s had just kicked my ass. I’d prepared myself to hit the street. I’d actually been looking forward to it, to everything just being done and someone else’s responsibility. 

“Grayson caught me.” Tim’s tone was viciously bitter. “Out of all the times for him to be there for me, for him to have my back, then was when he caught me.” He let out a broken chuckle. 

Dick gave Tim’s shoulder another squeeze. “Does Bruce know?”

Tim shrugged. “He knows that I occasionally think about throwing myself off of buildings. I think it was a deciding factor in him bringing me here.”   
  
“Okay,” Dick let out a breath. “Okay. So first, I forbid you from throwing yourself off a building.” Tim snorted but Dick cut off whatever he was going to say. “I’m serious. If you kill yourself someone is going to have to explain suicide to Dami.” There was a heavy silence in the car as Tim absorbed those words. Good. Because he needed to understand. Dick could save Tim from a lot of things but he couldn’t save Tim from himself. “Second, you are going to talk to someone about this. Bruce or Dinah, take your pick, but you aren’t leaving that bottled up. You are safe here, Tim.”

Tim snorted. “We’re vigilantes. We aren’t safe anywhere.”

“Then you are loved!” Dick practically shouted. “You are loved. Dami loves you. Jay and Bruce love you. I love you! You are my brother and I need you to live, Tim! I need you to be safe. So the next time you feel that way, that you can’t go on, or that you don’t want to, you find me. Promise me, Tim.”   
  
“Dick…”

“Promise me!”

“Okay,” Tim said softly. “I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Dick let go of Tim, letting his hands drift back to the wheels. “Okay.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t really. Tim was so very broken. But Dick loved him as much as he loved the rest of his family and Tim was going to heal. 

He had to. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So the events referenced in this pic is canon Red Robin. How suicidal Tim is in that one is up for debate but my answer is 'very'. Hope you enjoyed the fic.
> 
> Still taking prompts. I'm running a doc where I can get to them later. I'll gift you the fic if I use your prompt


End file.
